Legion
by DawnsBreak
Summary: "You have another family somewhere." Clagius Tullius slurred at Castus Tullius as he landed another punch. "But they left you." Rated T for the moment for swear words. Rating may change later.
1. Chapter 1

**Legion.**

**Skyrim © Bethesda****  
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Most days in Skyrim where beautiful, accompanied by warm air and a light breeze, just like today. For Castus Tullius, General of the Skyrim Imperial Legion this day was better. The horse underneath him snorted loudly, and he lent forward to scratch her neck. After almost a year worth of civil war, the rebellion leader Ulfric Stormcloak had been captured. Although at his 55 years, he imagined that the Emperor would keep him here.

"Shut up back there!" He turned his head into his shoulder as one his carriage drivers shouted. Signaling to the other driver to continue, Castus trotted towards the back. "What's the problem here, soldier?" The soldier shook his head. "Just some chatty prisoners, sir." Nodding at the driver, he gave them wagon a glance. His eyes grounded themselves at a prisoner he didn't quite recognize.

He had seen some Imperial soldiers throw another man in, but he hadn't really looked. The man was slightly shivering as they headed into a colder part of Skyrim. It seemed the cold bothered him enough to him to shiver, but not enough to completely bother him. Castus deduced that there was some Nord in this man, probably on his father's side since he looked more like an Imperial.

Gripping the reins, he kicked his horse into a lope. The rough road didn't make the short ride towards the front comfortable. Taking his place at the front of the line, he saw the gates of Helgen beckon to them.

Ralof watched the General lope to the front position before turning back towards the Imperial in front of him. He gazed at him with a questioning look. The man had been awake for some time now, but he had hardly talked, just glared at the horse thief. Said horse thief was looking away from the brown haired man.

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be in this situation, Thief." A harsh accent that Ralof didn't recognize came from the man. The thief flinched before giving a halfhearted glare. "If you hadn't been walking by, I could have gotten that horse." The heavy accented Imperial twisted his bounds. "I would behead you if I weren't tied by these bonds, you dishonorable bastard." The Imperial driver turned and glared at him.

A sting of pain shot up his legs as Ralof dismounted from the carriage. Sadness and shock passed over him as he looked at the soldier holding the list. Hadvar noticed him and winced before the Imperial Caption could see it. Walking forward at the cry of his name, Ralof gave a sad glance at Hadvar, who returned it. Glancing backwards, he saw the mysterious Imperial staring at Hadvar with a set jaw.

"Wait, who are you?" He looked at the prisoner who straightened his shoulders. "I am Percius Tullius of Solstheim, and honorable member of the Skaal." Hadvar glanced at his captain who gave him a look of disbelief. A dark hand grabbed his shoulder as the captain dragged Percius to the side.

Castus watched as the captain dragged the last man over to the side, and waved for him. Sighing in annoyance, he moved towards her, his gait showing his annoyance. "What is it, Captain?" Gesturing towards the prisoner, the captain muttered. "He said his last name was Tullius. Is he a relative, sir?" Pinching his nose, he shook his head. "As far as I know, no he isn't, but we'll question him later." Turning towards the carriages, he barked for two soldiers to guard this person, as he and the captain walked back to the headsman's block.

Percius felt a hand grab his left arm. Looking over, he found one of the soldiers holding his arm. "That is not necessary; I have no plan to run. Only hope to get my equipment back through a fair process." The pressure on his arm disappeared. Nodding his thanks towards the soldier, he returned his sight to the scene in front of him.

In an attempt of false hope, he watched as the horse thief sprinted away. Two arrows pierce the man's back, and his body falls to the cold ground. Even though he had not liked that man, he sent a small prayer to the All-Maker, hoping that the thief would find peace in death. Lifting his head, he watched as a Nord interrupted the Priest. Frowning, he wondered why someone would interrupt a priest.

A roar thundered over the mountains. People looked around trying to find its source. His guards put their hands on the hilts of their swords. Twisting his bonds, he wished he could free himself. While there were plenty of soldiers here, he wished he could help for there were many innocent people here, and he wished not to see them killed. The soldiers tensed as he flexed his bonds. He didn't blame them, they were only doing their duty, and as far as they knew, he was dangerous.

Ralof walked forward towards the block, and let the captain push him onto it. Another roar boomed from the mountains again. Heads looked once more for its source. A form that was darker than the night on Solstheim flied over the town, like a bird or hawk. It landed on the tower and the only female Stormcloak yelled, "Dragon!"

Opening its mouth, the dragon let out some kind of attack that knocked over half the people there and killed the headsman. Struggling against his bonds, he yelled at the soldier to his right. "Cut me free and I will help you evacuate the townspeople!" The soldier hesitated. "Do you want these people to die?" The soldier shook his head and cut Percius out his bonds before running to help some townspeople. Free of his bonds, the Imperial lurched forward and grabbed the headsman axe.

Ulfric Stormcloak, Castus, Ralof and Hadvar watched as Percius yanked up the headsman axe. The dragon stared at this brave, but idiotic, challenger. The man held his ground before the group. "Run!" he shouted behind him. The Stormcloaks ran to the tower while Hadvar ran to help a family. Castus immediately shout orders at the troops while he stood up.

Flying up, the dragon circled twice before roaring. The sky darkened and rocks lit with fire tumbled form the air. Percius dodged one narrowly. He watched as the dragon landed, facing him. Holding the axe up, he charged the dragon, letting out a roar of his own. "By the All-Maker, I will not let you destroy this village!" A growl emitted from the beast.

The tip of the axe ran down the dragon's face, hitting its eye. Snapping back its head, it roared at him. Raising his axe once more, Percius lunged from the right. Predicting his move, the beast grabbed a hold of the axe's handle, and forcing Percius to let go, snapped with his mouth. Falling backwards, he caught his balance quickly. Teeth pierced his torso and he gave out a scream out pain. Even though most people would struggle, he did not, for the All-Maker seemed to have decided this how he would pass on. That he accepted, as he was able to give the soldiers some more time to evacuate if possible.

Suddenly the pain disappeared and he could feel himself floating through the air, which direction he didn't know. Pain eclipsed as he hit something hard but yet soft. Hands soon grabbed his arms and dragged him away. His eyes opened to the General, Hadvar carrying his armor and weapon while another soldier carried the child he had heard earlier in the day.

The Imperial party watched under the cover of trees as the dragon fly towards the Throat of the World. Heads turned as some of the troops looked at the mess that was once Helgen. Hadvar just shook his head as he tended Percius's wounds. The man moaned lightly in pain as he cleaned the wounds. Thankfully for the man, the wounds were not deep, and would heal in a week or a week and half. They would heal faster if they had access to a healer.

Camping outside of the small town Riverwood, was not Castus's first idea. However, they had move slowly or the man's wounds would worsen, and that would make the trip even longer. Whiterun wasn't too far away and Balgruuf would hopefully allow this man to stay the temple. Although Castus could not see why he wouldn't. He studied the man's features. Somehow the Imperial managed to make you think he looked more like a Nord than an Imperial, yet he no defining features of a Nord, other than he could ignore the cold slightly better than a usual Imperial.

Percius's hair was black, short and wavy. His beard, both chin and jaw area, was finely trimmed. Black war paint circled his eyes, making them even brighter blue than what was normal. There was just the barest similarity between him and this Imperial. Bowing his head, and resting his fore arms on his legs, he wondered if this was the family his father told him one night in a drunken rage. If Percius's mother happened to be named Lucsinia Tullius, than they would be related. If not, than they merely shared a last name, though he knew it would probably be the first choice. Not many Imperials lived in Solstheim or ever had ancestor there. It would be awhile before he got his answer. Percius wasn't going to be consciousness, and if he was, it was for very brief seconds. Castus couldn't wait for the man to wake, he had out down the rebellion once more.

Two days later the group arrived at Whiterun's stable. Balgruuf, to the General's well hidden surprise, had come down to meet the group himself. Castus watched indifference as the Jarl approached them. The Jarl's brows were furrowed and his gait was quick. The Nord nodded at him in acknowledgment which he returned.

Healers ran past Balgruuf as they looked over the downed and unconscious man. "Is it true, General Tullius, that a dragon attacked Helgen?" He nodded a yes. "By the Eight." Balgruuf muttered before turning to Percius's form. Pointing at said man, Balgruuf asked the General, "Who is this man, if I may ask." Clearing his throat, Castus responded, "A former Imperial prisoner from Solstheim. He bravely charged the dragon, allowing us to save a couple more soldiers and a young boy. The rest were incapable of saving. However, if it weren't that, a lot more lives would have been lost, and for that, you may tell he can go free." Balgruuf nodded and watched as Castus boarded the wagon. "Oh, and Jarl Balgruuf, if you need any help, I recommend him."

The Jarl stroked his own beard before turning to the healers. "How long before he awakes?" One of them inclined her head at him. "I say about four days, my Jarl. If I may, I would also recommend two days' worth of rest." "Very well."


	2. Chapter 2

**Legion.**

**Skyrim © Bethesda**

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Light footsteps purposefully walked towards the bed that Percius lay in. His eyes cracked open to the humming of a healing spell. The healer retracted her arms as he let out a groan. Lifting himself up proved to be somewhat difficult as his body felt like he had been crushed by a large object. A hand helped push him up while a cup was pushed to his lips.

The bitter taste of a stamina potion slid down his throat. The feeling of being less tired was worth bearing the taste Percius mused. Using his arms, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He looked around the room. It seemed like a temple but a healing place at the time. Frowning, his gaze wandered to his healer. "Where am I?"

The healer smiled. "You are in the Temple of Kynareth. You were brought here after being wounded fight against… a dragon." He could tell the priestess did not believe what he fought was real. Thinking back to the events of Helgen, he didn't blame her for not believing it. Unless you had seen it yourself, it would be difficult to believe. Placing his forehead in his hand, he asked, "How long have I been out, priestess?"

"Four days at best." Nodding, he moved slowly to get off the bed. Placing his feet firmly on the ground, he stood up with the help of the woman. His muscles felt heavy and overworked as if he had been working hard. "Your armor and weapons are over here. Jarl Balgruuf has been waiting for you to awake and I would suggest seeing him immediately." He frowned at the word Jarl. "Is a Jarl like a Chief or Count?" The healer stared at him briefly before nodding. "I see. Thank you. Is there a place where I may change into my armor?"

Dragonsreach held all the features of a ruler's home. Larger than even the richer families. Percius did not understand why they needed such huge places. A simple great hall was all needed for the Chief, so why did this Jarl need it? Surely his family was not that big. Shaking his head lightly, he found himself missing the simple life of Solstheim and the Skaal village. Starting up the stairs, he wondered what Jarl Balgruuf wanted him for.

Much to his surprise, the hall was warmed fair well despite its large size. He nodded politely towards the guards and the workers. Percius almost rolled his eyes once more as another set of stairs greeted him. He was beginning to wonder how self-important this man was. Even though this city was built on a hill, he knew that there was probably unneeded amount of stairs to the palace, as the Nords here referred to it. As he hit the last step, his eyes narrowed another set of stairs right before a more fancier and larger chair.

The scene before him was interesting. A shorter and bolder man stood in fairly fancy clothes to the left of the chair talking to a Nord in the chair, and a female Dunmer stood to the right staring at Percius. As he meandered next to the fire, the Dunmer pulled out her steel sword and stalked towards him. The shorter man and the Nord did not notice, as they were too engrossed with their conversation.

The feeling of a sword tip against his chest stopped him from moving closer. His eyes met the fierce and protective eyes of the Dunmer. "Who are you, Imperial?" Clearing his throat, he spoke, "I am Percius Tullius, honorable member of the Skaal, people of Solstheim." His words halted the conversion near the chair, and the two men stared at him. The pressure next to his chest became stronger. "What is your business here?" "The priestess at the Temple told me that a Jarl Balgruuf wished to see me as soon as I woke." The pressure left his chest and the man on the chair waved him forward.

"I am Jarl Balgruuf. Yes, I did call for him, Irileth." The elf nodded and sheathed her sword before returning to her spot next to him. Percius took a place in front of the Jarl. "If I may ask, my Jarl, what is it that you ask for?" Balgruuf smiled at him. "I have a job for you if you want it; however I too wish to ask a question or two." Percius bowed his head in response. "Of course." "One, why have you come to Skyrim, and do you happen to be related to General Tullius?"

"I left Solstheim to find a family member my dearest mother had told me about when I was younger. It's possible as we do share the same last name, but at the same it could be pure coincidence." The Jarl stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I see. Now, about that job I have for you." He pushed himself off his throne, and headed towards a large open doorway to Percius's left.

Percius craned his neck to look at the mountain where Bleak Falls Barrow towered of Whiterun and Riverwood. It seemed the Dragon Cult and their ruins were prominent in his life. Climbing up the path headed towards said Barrow, Percius's mind flashed back to memories of his first visit to a Nordic ruin. A small smile graced his lips. He had been a small cub then and always eager to explore. His first venture outside of the village had landed near Miraak's old temple. The Skaal that winter had been forced to hunter farther than what was even necessary. The hunt had taken them near the temple.

While the hunters had been getting ready to travel back with their kills, he had seen something in the distance. Black broken archways had greeted him as he turned the corner. Eras may have passed since the Cult had ruled Solstheim, but the power still pulsed as strong as it had in those days. He had felt hum underneath his tiny feet, and some force had pulled him towards the ruins.

He remembered the way it almost felt as if the power had a physical form and could touch him. Whispers promising power had danced near his ears as reached closer to the ruins. His hands had lifted shakily inching ever closer to the dome in the middle of the archways. He would have touched the dome if it weren't for Oslaf grabbing him angrily away from the ruins. His mother thoroughly yelled at him after that.

Light shone through a crack in the ceiling illuminating nearby by places in the Barrow. His foot falls were light as he inched closer to the two bandits next a fire. Their voices drifted towards him, talking about some Dunmer whom had gone ahead with some claw. The male bandit sounded angry while the female sounded apathetic. Unhooking his great sword, he charged forward unleashing a battle cry that would have made his father proud.

His cry startled the bandits into action. A steel battle axe fell towards him bouncing off the sharp steel of his blade. He heard the whiz of an arrow pass by him. Knocking the Nord off him with his hilt, Percius spun on his heel and sprinted towards the female who was hurrying to notch another arrow. He leapt forward, sword falling towards the bandit.

A female scream pierced the air as the blade encased itself into her skin. Blood dribbled from her mouth as she fell down for death to claim her. The other bandit's battle axe cut into Percius's armor as he turned to face him. The Nord's face promised swift death for killing his comrade. Percius lifted his great sword to block the bandit's swing once more. He pushed off the bandit's axe to land a heavy hit against it. The force of the swing disarmed the man's battle axe from his hands, and Percius took the chance to slam his blade through his gut. Eyes widened as the blade was pushed further into the Nord's gut. Putting his foot on the bandit's chest, he pulled out his weapon from the Nord's gut, and watched as his body fell to the ground.

Percius grit his teeth as the Dark Elf ran from him, yelling about how he could never catch him. Dashing as fast as he could, he chased the elf through the Nordic ruin. Their combined noise together woke four draugr nearby. Arvel smirked and ran towards the hallway thinking he was escaping to freedom. Swinging blades abruptly ended his triumph. Shuddering slightly at the gruesome sight, he faced the draugr coming towards him and prepared to fight.

Farengar watched the mercenary placed a wrapped package on his desk gently. He grabbed it and pulled towards him. A hand ran over the cloth before unwrapping it. Smiling he gazed up at the Imperial. "The Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow. Impressive." Looking at the woman on his right, he motioned to the stone. "Thanks to the Jarl's mercenary, we have the Dragonstone." The woman leaned over his shoulder before nodding once. "Just send me a copy when you are done translating it." Hurried footsteps stopping at his doorway registered in his head, but his attention lay with the woman. "Of course."

"Farengar!" Heads turned towards the doorway where the housecarl stood. "Farengar, a dragon has attacked the western watch tower." A frown appeared the mercenary's face as Irileth spoke. The court mage, however, became excited. Percius followed the two while the mage blabbed about wanting to see this dragon.

Smoke weaved over the broken tower, its trail only broken by a guard running through it. The smell of rotten flesh clogged their nose's airways. Two guards removed their helmets to throw up the contents of their lunches. A frighten guard lurched from a doorway in the tower yelling about how the dragon would come back and that two guards had been grabbed while trying to run. The echo of a roar reached the group, and they looked in the direction it had come from. Its form covered some of Bleak Falls Barrow as it flew fast and towards the tower.

Percius grabbed his sword from his back, his breath steady as it could be. He could feel the pain from the last dragon around his waist; its invisible teeth tickled his scars. His grip tightens around the handle. The dragon circled around the tower once before landing nearby. His feet took him towards the dragon, great sword held near his side.

Seeing the human charging him, the dragon roared and fire spilled from its mouth. The human dodged to the side, a single lock of hair singed slightly. The dragon prepared itself for an attack while the mortal gritted his teeth before charging him again. Out the corner of his eye, the beast saw an arrow fly by.

The blade bounced off the stronger scales near his neck. He laughed at the puny assault before snapping at the human with his mouth. Three arrows pierced his belly and he let out a growl of pain. Flying up, he headed towards the other human and let out a wall of fire forcing the humans to scatter least they get scorched by his flames.


	3. Chapter 3

**Legion.**

**Sorry for the long absence, I was at horse camp. Also, I decided to write Ulfric with the respect that he does deserve.**

**Skyrim © Bet****hesda**

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One of the guards notched an arrow, aiming for the dragon. The arrow flew towards the dragon, Irileth watching its path. It spun until it entrenched itself in the dragon's neck near where the shoulder and neck met. The winged beast let out a roar of pain before spouting fire at the guard and Dunmer. The two leapt from the tower.

Irileth escaped with no burns; however the guard was not so lucky. They travelled from the base of his foot to the middle of his leg. The guard rolled onto his back holding his leg, and let whimpers of pain out. Irileth ran a healing spell down the man's leg to ease the pain. Patting his shoulder, she jumped back onto the broken walls. Pointing towards the dragon, she yelled, "Aim for where that arrow hit!" Arrows flew in response. Out of the five that were fired, only three hit. Even with just those arrows hitting the dragon, it was enough pain to force the dragon to land.

Percius charged as the dragon landed leaning on its one leg. Smoke poured from its nostrils as it gazed at him charging. His teeth were bared and his grip on his great sword tightened. Strong looking teeth snarled back at him. The rows of teeth snapped at him as he came closer. Leaning his left shoulder back, he narrowly dodged the sharp rows. Stepping back, he brought the weapon over his head before landing a strike on the dragon's right shoulder.

The attack brought another growl from the beast as it swung its tail towards his challenger. The force of the tail smacked Percius in the head knocking his helmet off. He landed hard on his left side, great sword clattering near him. The dragon turned towards him, its teeth bared once more at him ready to strike. Percius rolled underneath the dragon's neck to dodge the lunge. He heard the dragon growl in pain. Grazing through locks of hair that fell in his face, he found Irileth standing over him. She made a movement with her head for him to move, and he jumped up grabbing his helmet and blade. Placing his helmet back on his head, Percius landed a strike on the dragon's head while the guards and Irileth attacked other parts of the dragon. He landed one more hit before jumping up and making a downward strike.

His blade pierced the scales and slashed the soft skin underneath. A growl that the dragon had produced went silent. Lifeless eyes reflected the look on Percius's face. He looked like a man who had been living in the wild for too long. His black locks were ruffled even with his helmet on. Wolf like eyes stared back at him and half opened mouth produced an almost snarl.

A noise that sounded like fire filtered through Percius's ears. His gaze focused back on the burning body of the dragon. Irileth yelled something and the guards moved away, but Percius was too engrossed burning body. Tendrils of orange, blue, yellow and red headed towards him. Some passed to the side while others went through him. He gazed back at the dead eyes of the dragon. The light emitting from the tendrils highlighted the wild look of his. The guards let out shouts of amazement.

His shoulders sagged tiredly as he looked at the Throat of the World. The snow crunched under him as his footfalls became heavy. His journey to find his half-brother was certainly turning into something else. He wondered what Storn would say about him being something out of these Nords' legends. Storn would probably be not pleased at finding what he was. A shiver of fright crawled down his spine.

He remembered the legends about the Traitor and how he was said to be able to take the souls of dragons. The legends had also said that same power corrupted into thinking he had been better than the dragons. Thankfully the Guardian found out about the Traitor and defeated him. He looked down at his black gloved hand. Flexing it, he wondered if this power would corrupt him. Gritting his teeth, he shook his head at the thought. He would not let this power corrupt him, the All-Maker take if he did.

Pushing open the door of the Monastery, Percius found four hood monks waiting for him. The echoes of his footsteps kept him tense. Jarl Balgruuf had told him of these men's powers and how they were very similar in a way to the Dovahkiin or Dragonborn. One of the monks walked towards him and he went rigid. The hooded man smiled gently at him.

"I am Master Arngeir, speaker of the Graybeards." Percius relaxed and smiled. "I am Percius Tullius of Solstheim."

Sword raised, Percius steadied his breath. He was standing over Delphine, protecting the woman from dragon before them. The dragon gazed hungrily at him. Moving forward slowly, Percius brought his blade in front of him. One wrong move could end the life of Delphine and the answers to his questions. The dragon's mouth opened, fire beginning to build up. Percius dropped his sword lower and Shouted. "Fus… Ro Dah!"

The force of the shout pushed the dragon backwards enough to force the monster to cancel its attack. Dashing forward, he sideswiped the dragon. He put all the force he could muster into the swing. Delphine watched as half of Percius's blade sunk into the dragon's skin. The dragon's eyes widened as it felt the pain plant itself in his neck.

Pulling out his sword, he turned to Delphine, mouth opened sucking in breaths. "Are you okay?" The Breton accepted his hand gratefully as he pulled her up. "For now I will be. We should get to the Temple of Talos in Windhelm. Healing may not be their main focus, but they can do it." Wrapping her arms around the Imperial's shoulders, Delphine turned as she heard what sounded like fire crackling. The dragon's body started to burn and tendrils of purple, blue and orange headed towards Percius wrapping around him as if they were hugging him tenderly.

The walk to Windhelm was sluggish and cold. Bitter winds tapped at the two companions. Snow crunched underneath their feet, and Delphine felt her body grow colder. She shivered and Percius took notice. His arms wrapped under her leg and he picked her up. Struggling to walk forward at first, Percius set a quick pace to Windhelm.

The Breton rested her head in the crook of his neck and fell asleep. While her breath tickled, he did not mind her doing so, as she would need all the rest she could get. The cold winds snapped at his face, and he was lucky that he could partly resist the cold. A yellow light shone in the distance and Percius knew they were near the city.

A guard walked towards him as he climbed the stairs. Delphine was in a deep sleep and Percius was worried as he could not wake her. The helmeted head looked at him then look at the wounded woman in his arms. Making a motion to follow her, the guard yelled for people move out their way. For a city that was considered racist, he was surprised how the guard did not hassle him. However he could not shake the feeling it had something to do with how badly injured Delphine was.

Kneeling near the statue of Talos was an older Nord man. His eyes were closed as he prayed to his God. The priestess and priest did not bother him. He steadied his breath as his eyes opened at the sound of door opening and hurried footsteps rushed to it. The hushed whispers of the priest and priestess enter through his ears and he turns to see the commotion. The priest and a dark haired man are carrying a blonde haired woman; the priestess is directing where to put her.

Healing spells light around the hands of the priest and priestess. One of them makes a statement to the brown haired Imperial to leave. The Nord's eyes widened as the other man turns towards him. He recognized the face. Although, he was sure he never could forget this man.

Memories dance around his eyes as he remembers the Imperial at Helgen charging the ebony colored dragon. The Imperial feels his gaze and looks towards him. The face contorts in confusion before realization appears. He is given a smile as the warrior in front of him moves closer. Pushing himself of the ground, he awaits from the man to come closer.

A hand is stretched out in which he shakes, and understanding passes through the two warriors. "Ulfric Stormcloak," a harsh voice comes from the former Imperial prisoner. "It has been a few months since we have last seen each other, has it not?"

A smile graces his lips. "It has been." He motions for the two to take a sit in one the benches behind them. As the two sit, Ulfric finds he can get a better look at this brave warrior. There are areas under the man's eyes that are darker than his war paint. He wonders how long has it been since the Imperial has gotten sleep. "I do find myself wondering who you might be as we were never properly introduced."

"I am Percius Tullius of Solstheim." Ulfric raised his eyebrows at the names Tullius and Solstheim. "Before you ask, I have no idea whether I have any relation to this Imperial General, so please, do not think me as such." Sighing, Ulfric nodded once. "Very well. So why have you come to Skyrim?"

Percius leant back into the bench. "To find who my sibling is." He frowned as he picked dirt off his gloved hand. "However I haven't been able to search for him." Ulfric crossed his arms and on put one leg over the other. "Is it possible that I may have an explanation?" The Imperial next to him smiled softly.

"Of course. After I passed out near the Imperials, I was dropped at Whiterun's Temple a day later. After being passed out for four days, the priestess told me that Jarl Balgruuf wished to see him after a recommendation from General Tullius." Percius sucked in a breath before continuing. "I was sent to Bleak Falls Barrow to retrieve a tablet for his court mage. Not too long after, a dragon, as you may have heard, attacked the Western Watchtower." Ulfric stroked his beard. He had indeed heard about the dragon attack. "The Jarl once more asked for my help in defeating this dragon."

"Once the dragon had been felled, the strangest of things happened. The dragon proceeded to burn and I stole its soul according to the guards. Dragonborn they call me, or Dovahkiin by the Graybeards." Percius rubbed his forehead, tired from recent events. "I sought out the Graybeards after they called me, did their quest for them and ran into her." His turned towards unconscious woman on the table. "We went to Kynesgrove to see the strangest of sights. The dragon from Helgen raised another dragon which was also felled."


End file.
